Divergence
by Irlanda Anima
Summary: Contiuation of 'Different Circumstances' and 'Stark Landscape'. Eliciting an emotional response from a Vulcan is dammed near impossible... unless said Vulcan happens to be under the command of one James T. Kirk.
1. Haunted

**Title:** Divergence  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Genre:** hurt/comfort, angst, pre-slash, character death  
**Spoilers: **Star Trek XI, Wrath of Khan, Search for Spock, Star Trek Generations, and brief references to the TOS episode 'Amok Time'  
**Character/Pairing:** James T. Kirk, Spock, Spock Prime, Kirk Prime, Jean Luc Picard, Pre-Kirk/Spock, established Kirk Prime/Spock Prime  
**Number:** 1/4  
**Word Count: **1 663 (as stated in Microsoft Word)  
**Summary: **Eliciting an emotional response from a Vulcan is dammed near impossible; unless that Vulcan happens to be under the command of one James T. Kirk.**  
Author's Note: **This is following after '_Different Circumstances_' and '_Stark Landscape_'. I think I've written it so you don't actually have to read those two, but they do all happen in the same universe, so to speak, so reading them might help. We've all probably read stories now where Jim gets memories of the other timeline from Spock Prime and so fics even have Jim having trouble dealing with them. My thought is that if he is struggling, he shouldn't have to struggle alone.

* * *

"_Spock!"_

"_I have been, and always shall be, your friend. Live long and prosper."_

"_No!"_

Jim bolted upright, sweat running down his skin in rivets causing the sheets which had twisted themselves around him in sleep to stick uncomfortably to his skin. His gaze flickered wildly around the room, but he saw nothing more then the outline of his darkened quarters, the faint glow of passing stars illuminating the area around his bed just enough for him to discern the familiar shapes and lines of the room. He slowly began to breathe more steadily as he realized he'd only been dreaming. His heart rate slowed.

It wasn't real; it hadn't happened. There was no Khan, no Genesis device. The _Enterprise _wasn't damaged and there was no radiation leak. He was alone in his quarters, not in Engineering...not leaning against that clear wall watching Spock struggle to stand...struggle to speak...to breathe...

"Computer, locate Commander Spock," he'd voiced the words before he was even consciously aware of his need to know.

"_Commander Spock is on the Bridge,"_ the computer chirped.

_Not dead,_ he repeated over and over to himself. Spock wasn't dead. He was safe on the Enterprise working on the bridge, most likely running some scans and tests on the readings they'd collected from a nearby nebula. What he was seeing in his mind had never happened, probably would never happen now that the timeline had been changed and they knew what to do to prevent it...but it had happened once, had happened to the other him and the other Spock. He felt that loss and pain as keenly as if it _had_ been him.

He pushed the covers aside and climbed out of bed, quickly making his way towards his and Spock's shared bathroom. The lights flickered on to a low setting at his entranced and as he placed his hands under the facet, water automatically poured down onto his hands, which he then splashed onto his face.

It seemed to be getting worse. He wasn't sure why but the memories that Spock Prime had inadvertently left in his possession on Delta Vega were getting harder to deal with, harder to ignore. He knew the Ambassador hadn't meant to give him as much as he had, had even said so when he realized just what exactly Jim had seen, but he couldn't fault the old man for that, especially considering what he'd been dealing with at the time. His intense loss at the destruction of his homeworld, his guilt and regret over his failure to help Romulus, his relief and joy at seeing Jim again, the intense love and sadness that had been dredge up to the surface at this confrontation with a Jim that was and wasn't the man he'd loved and lost, and the exact nature of the bond that had existed between the two.

Jim raised his head and stared at his reflection in the mirror. What he saw was a face that was somehow both incredibly familiar and yet foreign at the same time. He'd caught himself more than once having to look at his reflection twice after having caught a glance of it from the corner of his eyes and was almost startled not to see an older face, eyes weighed down by years of hardship and pain, and yet at the same time settled in some way, lightened by...

He closed his eyes and sighed, leaning heavily against the counter. _Galloping around the cosmos is a game for the young_. He'd said that and yet he couldn't, couldn't even image why he'd say such a thing and yet at the same time, understanding all too well. The memories in his mind were an odd mixture of his counterpart's and Spock Prime's. The two had been so very close, their minds one on so many occasions that it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began...and it was silently tearing Jim apart to now be able to experience that for himself. He'd gotten a very brief taste of it with Spock Prime – that mind-meld had touched something very deep within him, filling a need he hadn't even been aware of – and through the memories of his other self and through Spock's he knew how fulfilling and rewarding that bond could be...and it only made him ache all the more.

He wanted that with _his_ Spock; was almost desperate for it. The memories showed him what it was like to be loved so completely by another, to feel totally secure in another's presence and what it felt like to never be alone.

_Though you may be parted from me, never shall we be parted. Never and always touching and touched. _

But he was alone, always alone, and it was an almost physical ache for him to not be that close to someone...to not be that close to _Spock_.

He still had trouble dealing with these thoughts. It hadn't been all that long ago that he'd though he hated the Vulcan.

"_Who is that pointy-eared basterd?"_

"_I don't know, but I like him."_

Just the fact that Bones had like Spock while he hadn't was enough to show him how very screwed up this reality had become. With some effort things were now beginning to settle themselves. Bones and Spock were back to bickering and snipping at each other, with himself playing as mediator, but there were so many things that weren't the same. Spock's relationship with Uhura being the big one.

He pushed angrily away from the counter and made his way back into the bedroom, settling down on the edge of the bed. His back to the window and simply stared down at the faint outline of his shadow on the floor.

He'd made some headway in his plan to fix his relationship with Spock. After the conversation with him on the observation deck before the warped into the Sol System, Spock and he had tentatively began building that friendship that he had glimpsed in those memories from the mind-meld. The last three months had shown that when they did work together on something, they didn't just work well, but worked almost perfectly. They balanced each other; him with his emotion and Spock with his cool logic. He'd come up with the plans and Spock would break them down and build them up into something better.

But not everything was perfect. There were times when they didn't jive together, when they weren't on the same page. Those times grated on Jim and he knew he couldn't expect everything to change over night, but it just served to remind him that no matter how much he was able to build up his friendship with Spock, that's all it would ever remain.

At one time that might have been fine, but over the course of the last four months, Jim had done exactly what he'd feared would be all to easy to do on Delta Vega: he was falling in love with his First Officer.

He closed his eyes and bowed his head, his forearms resting against his knees. He could never let it show though. When others were around, he had to show them exactly what they expected to see. Captain James T. Kirk of the _U.S.S. Enterprise_, universal flirt, deadly loyal to his ship and crew, and almost always leaping in head first within checking the water level. If he seemed to hover around his First Officer's station, it was merely because he valued the Vulcan's observations and advice. If he kept his eyes on Spock on away missions, it was only because Spock usually spotted problems before anyone else and if he clenched his fists whenever he saw Spock and Uhura together, it was only because he was concerned for his friend who many not anticipate everything a human relationship entailed.

He couldn't afford to let it be known that he found the Vulcan highly attractive, that he valued his advice and opinions because any insight into the Commander's mind was a treasure; that he watched Spock on away missions because of the fear that something might happen to him and he was jealous of Uhura for having what Jim so desperately wanted.

"_Whatever our lives might have been had the time continuum not been altered, our destines have changed."_

Spock's own words. Jim found it ironic that even with the changes to the timeline, he was still Captain of the _Enterprise_ – though he knew that was in part due to Spock Prime – that the original crew was all still here, but the things that truly mattered to him, things that his other self felt he couldn't live without, _he_ couldn't have. Nero had murdered his Father before he could know him, causing his childhood to resemble almost nothing to what it should have been, and Spock, do to the huge difference in the beginnings of their relationship and his courtship with Uhura, as lost to him.

"_But what of the cost: you ship, your son."_

"_If I hadn't tried, the cost would have been my soul."_

He pushed himself back up from the bed, hunting around for a shirt to shrug into. However true he felt that statement was, he had to keep it to himself.

Shirt quickly thrown in place over his sleep pants, he left his quarters, knowing he wasn't going to be able to sleep again tonight and hoped that a walk through the ship might help to calm his thoughts. He couldn't have Spock in the way that he wanted – that path had been closed to him almost since the day he'd been born – but he could have him as his friend and Jim promised himself that he would do whatever it took to be there for Spock in whatever way the Vulcan would need. It didn't matter to him that the universe was different and the bond would never form. For him, Spock would always be his _t'hy'la. _

_tbc...  
_


	2. Warmth

**AN:** That's it, I give up. This chapter just doesn't want to be written in any shape way or form. As much as I hate it, I couldn't leave you guys hanging so here it is in all it's crappiness. I'll probably end up scraping the whole thing at some point and re-doing it but at this point, this is what is. Hope you guys enjoy it none the less and I promise that the next two chapters are much, much better. My plan is to post one a week to give me time to go over them and such. Sorry again about this one.

* * *

**Part 2**

Desert and copper-spice: it surrounded him like a warm blanket. He wanted to bury himself in it. Fold in around him and never let it go. It was a relief from the consent ache, from the horrible wanting. He'd dreamed of this for so long that he could hardly believe it was true now…even if getting it was at the cost of his life.

"Captain, hold still." There was a sense of urgency in that voice that Jim wasn't used to hearing, an undertone of fear. Why was Spock afraid?

A sudden, jarring movement as Spock shielded him against a blast, dust and debris falling over them, caused pain to lace upwards from his torso like an electrical shot. Jim cried out, biting down on his lip in an attempt to keep the cry muffled, his hand instinctively reaching out and clutching the one Spock had placed over his wound.

"Shit," Jim muttered as Spock lifted his head, still shielding Jim even as he tried to peer around the corner of the boulder they were currently hidden behind. "What the fuck is going on?" His awareness was slowly coming back, but he was still foggy on the details.

"The Gahbrogal are not as they had first appeared, Captain," Spock quickly explained, ripping off part of the sleeve of his science uniform before pressing the fabric against Jim's wound, attempting to stanch the blood flow.

"No shit," Jim bit his lip again and winced, trying to ignore the strength he could feel vibrating in the arm Spock had wrapped around him, holding him prisoner against the Vulcan's chest. Now was most definitely not the time for that.

"Ensign Bowen and yourself were beginning to show signs of telepathic manipulation. When I endeavoured to interfere, the Gahbrogal perceived me as a threat and attempted to eliminate me," Spock was focused on his wound, probably trying to assess how bad it was.

"Yeah, that I remember," and he wasn't likely to forget anytime soon. The last couple of hours since they'd beamed down to the planet were a bit of a blur to him, most likely due to the Gahbrogal influence as Spock had said, but that one thing he remembered quite clearly. The Gahbrogal's dismissal of Spock, agreeing to get rid of him as if he were nothing more than a bug that needed to be squashed was an image he was sure was carved into his retina. Then the phaser levelled at Spock's stomach, aimed to kill. The image still caused Jim to shiver. Then he realized it wasn't just his mental pictures that were causing him to shake.

Spock noticed as well and his communicator was suddenly in hand, his voice urgent as he talked with Scotty. Jim frowned slightly. When had he pulled that out?

"_Commader, we're having a bit of trouble gettin' a lock on ya. Hold tight for a sec. We'll have ya outa there as soon as we can."_

"Have Dr. McCoy standing by. The Captain's injuries are more severe then I originally thought." As if the prove Spock's point, Jim was beginning to feel more than a little light-headed ad he could barely keep his eyes open. He barely even flinched as another energy discharge slammed into the boulder, debris missing them by mere inches.

"Where's Ensign Bowen?" Jim muttered, trying to keep himself focused, but he didn't think he was having much luck. The tightness around Spock's eyes was more telling then he was sure the Vulcan would care to admit.

"Dead," he said softly, hoisting Jim up more firmly against his chest in order to keep better pressure on his wound. Jim bit his lip in agony, unable to prevent a hiss from escaping from his clenched lips. "He was murdered after the Ghabrogal lost control over you." His head was bent down next to Jim's ear, his breath brushing against the sensitive skin there.

Jim clenched his eyes shut and tried to focus on nothing but his breathing. They were in hostile territory for Christ's sake, he was injured and who knew if the _Enterprise_ was going to be able to get them out of this and yet all he could think of was how good if felt to have Spock's arms around him, to feel that unnaturally warm breath ghosting against his skin…

"_Jim_, hold on," the urgency in Spock's voice cause Jim to snap his eyes open, realizing as he did so that he'd closed them and had been slowly falling from Spock's grasp as his body went slack.

"Sorry," he said, though it came out more as a slur. Spock's arms clenched around him and he leaned forward, firing off a few phaser blasts before flicking his eyes quickly down at Jim's wound. Jim looked down as well, for the first time realizing just how much blood he was losing. His uniform was almost completely soaked with it and both his and Spock's hands were coated with the sticky substance.

Spock adjusted the bit of fabric over the wound, the science blue almost completely obscured by blood. A cursory glance at Spock's own blood stained uniform told Jim more than he really wanted to know. How long ago had he been injured? How far had Spock had to drag him, firing against their enemy and covering them before being able to tend to his wound and contact the _Enterprise_? Even now they were still in danger, though the boulder gave them some protection.

"This isn't good, is it?"

Spock didn't bother answering, but the look in those dark eyes told him all he needed to know.

"_Commander Spock. We've gotta lock. Hold on tight!"_ Scotty's voice broke through their silent communication and within seconds the scenery around them melted away and the _Enterprise_ transporter room shimmered into view.

"Jesus!" a voice exclaimed and then McCoy was there, moving his hands quickly to press a large wad of bandages against Jim's wound.

Jim was still held securely against Spock's chest and he sagged back against it, his head lolling to the side as his strength failed him.

"Jim! Dammit kid, don't you quit on me now!" McCoy's hand was on his face, moving his head back to get his attention.

Jim's eyes fluttered for a second and then focused on McCoy, clearly reading the concern there, but there was nothing he could do about it. He couldn't even feel the pain anymore.

"'m cold, Bones," he said, though his voice came out hardly louder than a whispered.

"Shit," McCoy muttered before swivelling around to glare at someone over his shoulder. "Get the OR prepped for surgery and call M'Benga and have him get scrubbed up. Now!" There was a scurry of movement, but Jim paid it little attention, to focused he was on the fact that Spock was still holding his hand.

"We need to get him to sickbay."

Jim's awareness was pretty shot by that point, but he was pretty sure Bones hadn't meant for Spock to carry him. However he didn't find anything wrong with that situation as he found himself firmly tucked up against the Vulcan's chest, his abdominal secured in an iron grip to keep it from moving and his knees folded a pressed against Spock's arm.

He sighed, his head resting just where Spock's neck and shoulder connected, and even though he knew thing were bad, he couldn't bring himself to care. He sighed again as his eyes closed. Spock was so warm…

***

This wasn't good. Jim was losing a lot of blood and at the moment he couldn't tell where it was coming from. Obviously something had ruptured, but it was all such a mess that he couldn't tell if it was the boy's liver, stomach, kidneys or another other number of organs.

_Shit kid_, _what the hell have you gotten yourself into this time._

Even as he thought it, McCoy firmly pushed it from his mind. He'd seen Jim Kirk through many different kinds of injuries before, some even worse then this, and he wasn't about to let the kid check out on him now…especially considering the Vulcan that had made himself a permanent fixture against the wall of his sickbay.

M'Benga was keeping pressure against the wound and so McCoy quickly reached up to Jim's neck, trusting his own fingers over the machines currently around them.

"He's having difficulties moving air. Let's bag him." A nurse quickly scurried to do his bidding and he moved down to the abdominal wound, M'Benga carefully removing the fabric. More blood poured from the wound and McCoy cursed.

"Get four units of blood stat. We'll start with a liter bolus and watch his blood pressure. The last thing we need is to overload him with fluids his organs can process."

He pressed down carefully around the wound, thankful that there weren't any broken ribs. It meant that at least his lungs and heart hadn't suffered from the injury. Whatever had hit him impacted just below the rib cage. Any higher and either his lungs would have been punctured or his heart. Sparing a quick glance at Spock, he couldn't help but sigh inwardly. The position of the wound told him all he needed to know about how Jim had received it and he couldn't say he was surprised.

"I've got suction going," M'Benga confirmed, carefully clearing the blood from the wound so that they could see exactly what they were dealing with. As the blood clearly, McCoy cursed.

"Nicked his liver," he muttered to himself.

Nurse Chapel appeared at his left side. "OR's prepped and ready to go."

"Okay," McCoy muttered as M'Benga replaced the old bandage with a fresh on, preparing to wheel Jim into the OR for surgery.

"Doctor McCoy?" Spock questioned and McCoy sighed turned towards the Vulcan. He looked a right mess, covered in Jim's blood, but what really drew his attention was the eyes. Since when had Spock's eyes ever been so pinched?

"I don't know yet, Spock." He said, moving towards the Commander. "Right now it could go either way. He's lost a lot of blood, and that's what's got me worried right now. His liver I can repair, but if I can't get the bleed stopped and his blood pressure up…" he left the sentence hanging, sure that Spock understood.

The Vulcan nodded, his gaze suddenly riveted to the floor. "When you know anything more, please have me informed," and with that said he quickly made his way out of sickbay.

McCoy stared after him in utter confusion. Over the past few months, Jim and Spock had grow closer and it wasn't unheard of for one to practically be glued to the others side when one was injured. The relationship annoyed McCoy to no end as he couldn't understand it at all. Spock had marooned Jim on Delta Vega and then tried to kill him. His friends' sudden acceptance of the Vulcan had been more than confusing.

Not nearly as confusing as Spock's sudden dash from sickbay, however. The Vulcan had been acting strange since he'd transport back up to the ship. Unfortunately he couldn't take the time to figure it out now. He had a reckless Captain to tend to.

_tbc..._


	3. Burden

**Title:** Divergence  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Genre:** hurt/comfort, angst, pre-slash, friendship, slash, established character death  
**Spoilers:** Star Trek XI, Wrath of Khan, Search for Spock, Star Trek Generations, and brief references to the TOS episode "Amok Time"  
**Characters/Pairings:** James T. Kirk, Spock, Spock Prime, Kirk Prime, brief appearance by Jean Luc Picard, Pre-Kirk/Spock, established Kirk Prime/Spock Prime  
**Number:** 3/4  
**Word Count:** 6 027 (as stated in Microsoft Word)  
**Summary:** Eliciting an emotional response from a Vulcan was damned near impossible...unless said Vulcan happened to be under the command of one James T. Kirk.  
**Author's Notes:** This follows after "_Different Circumstances_" and "_Stark Landscape_".

For the record, you guys are great. It's nice to know that even though I think the last chapter wasn't my best that you guys enjoyed it anyways.

**Droopydog: **Thanks for the kind words on how the chapter moved the plot along and such. It was such a pain and I'm glad you liked it.

**Thebondgirl:** Sorry if it was confusing in the beginning but where the story's from Jim's POV and he was suffering from blood lost and telepathic stuff going on, it just made sense for him to be a bit out of it. Hope your confusion cleared up though.

**Lilemmy**: Please no aneurysms...they are messy and I really don't want to clean it up...or have been responsible for one.

**Lady Merlin:** *hugs* Thanks for the comments even if you are sleepy. I'm glad you're enjoying my Jim so much as I find him a little difficult to write. Not as hard as Spock (thank goodness), but still difficult.

**Astrakage: **You'll find out eventually...

Thanks so much for the lovely reviews guys. I'm happy you're enjoying it even if I think the road is getting a little rocky. I've got one more chapter to go for this story that I'm hoping will be out next week, but don't fret...there is more on the way after that. I'm not done with the Jim and Spock of this universe quite yet.

* * *

**Part 3**

Sickbay was always so quiet this time of night. Jim wasn't sure if it was because the staff attempted to keep a comforting atmosphere for those recovering from illness or injury or whether it had something to do with the fact that McCoy was passed out in his office. He tended to think it was the later.

He could honestly say it was a blessing right now, as he peered around the corner of the door to see McCoy's head propped up on data PADDs, drool pooling in the corner of his open mouth. If McCoy were awake there was no way Jim would even be allowed to sit up in bed let alone be out of it and walking around. His abdominal twinge with every movement he made and he kept one hand pressed lightly against it to prevent any sharp movements on his part, but he was highly aware of the fact that the only reason he was able to stand and ignore the pain at all was because McCoy had him on the good stuff.

He couldn't help but grin slightly as he slowly made his way towards the door and out of sickbay. It was all thanks to McCoy's need to make sure he was comfortable that he was able to escape as easily as he was. He knew it wouldn't last – he gave it maybe twenty minute now 'til McCoy found him – but it was well worth the effort. He just needed a few moments of peace.

He shuffled down the hall, thankful the ship was usually fairly quiet now as the crew was either sleeping or working gamma shift. He was sure that if any of the crew were to see him right now, not only would it do nothing for crew moral, but it was a sure fire way to get his ass sent back to sickbay.

He shivered slightly. He really didn't want to go back there. Not that it was horrible or anything – never mind the food or that horribly antiseptic smell that all hospitals seem to have – just that he couldn't concentrate on anything and he couldn't sleep. It wasn't that much of a mystery to know why.

The dreams were still there, tugging at his mind all the time. The way the mission ended just seemed to heighten it all. He couldn't get the memory of that gun pointed at Spock out of his mind, neither could he forget the way it'd felt to be held in the Vulcan's arms. He felt ashamed and annoyed with himself for thinking it – Spock didn't have any clue as to how he felt and it wasn't far to him to be thinking such thoughts – but he couldn't help the way he felt. Even though the situation had been dire and the threat to his life very real, he couldn't remember the last time he'd ever felt so safe and protect as he had when Spock had been holding him.

The door to observation deck 3 slid open at his approach and Jim was thankful for two things: one was that the deck seemed to be deserted at this time of night, leaving him in peace, and two that it was on the same deck as sickbay. As much as he wanted to make sure McCoy didn't find him anytime soon, trying to get any further away would just be too draining and the chances of running into someone greater if he'd had to take a turbolift anywhere.

He shuffled his way towards the large window at the far side of the deck, watching as the stars whizzed by at warp. Apparently they'd left Norain III at some point after his injury. He didn't really know. It wasn't like he'd been in any condition to report back to Starfleet and receive new orders. He'd have to get Spock to fill him in on all the details the next time he saw him.

That thought made him frown and he lean carefully against the barrier between the deck and space. He'd woken up alone in sickbay. Well, McCoy had been there, but the doctor didn't really count. He was always there berating Jim for the stupid stunt he'd pulled this time. It was the fact that Spock wasn't there that had him concerned. The last four months had been trying on all of them as they attempted to settle into being a crew, but Jim had felt reassured that they were getting alone and that he and Spock were beginning to build that relationship that Spock Prime had said was so important. It was becoming usual for one of them to hang around sickbay, utterly annoying the hell out of McCoy while the other was injured. The fact that he'd woken up alone this time concerned him. Why hadn't Spock been there?

McCoy hadn't been much help with that. Grumbling 'he's probably on the bridge, where else would he be?' as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. _How about with me?_ He couldn't help but think at the time. He knew he really didn't have the right to expect that of Spock. Just because he'd gotten used to the Vulcan's presence at his side whenever he was injured didn't mean that Spock had to be there. Most likely there had been something that had demanded his attention and he just hadn't had a moment to pop down and check on Jim. Maybe he'd already spoken to McCoy and learned that he wasn't in any immediate danger and therefore felt that there was no need to come and see him just yet.

Jim shook his head, closing his eyes and feeling utterly annoyed with himself. Spock didn't have to come and see him and he shouldn't be expecting it or disappointed when he didn't. Spock was his friend, yes, but nothing more than that. It was hard to remember between the dreams and the last memory he now had of Spock holding him, but it was the truth. Spock was just his friend. Spock was with Uhura. Spock wasn't with him.

He rested his head against the barrier, resisting the urge to bang his head against it. He'd made a resolution to himself and he'd be damned if he was going to allow himself to break it. No one had to know how much it pained him to see Spock with Uhura, to be that close to the Vulcan and not have more. He would be Spock friend, his best friend, even if the attempt killed him.

The door behind him slide open and Jim tensed slightly, preparing to listen as McCoy yelled and cussed at him, dragging his ass back to sickbay. After a few moments the door slide shut and if it wasn't for the soft breaths he could still hear he'd assume that whomever it was had left him alone.

Not McCoy then. That left only one person and Jim couldn't help but tense even more. He couldn't deal with this right now. As much as he'd been complaining about Spock not being there when he'd woken up and not coming to see him, he didn't think he could handle it right now. He didn't have the strength or the will power to prevent Spock from reading into his expressions and tone. He couldn't hide from the Vulcan.

The silence was grating on his nerves and he grinded his teeth slightly. "Was there something you needed?" He was pleased to note that his voice didn't come out sounding harsh, even if his exhausted was extreme obvious. He wished he could just send the Vulcan away, but he knew Spock and the Vulcan wouldn't just leave him here.

"You should be in sickbay," was the soft reply and Jim couldn't help but smirk slightly.

"Did Bones send you?"

He would swear that he could actually hear that eyebrow. "I came of my own volition." He replied simply.

Jim was a little amazed by that. Not the fact that Spock had come, but the fact that McCoy didn't seem to be aware that he was no longer under his care. It'd been, what, fifteen minutes now since he'd snuck his way out of sickbay. Usually Jim didn't even make it out of sickbay. He was sure that McCoy had some kind of bell attached to him that rang when he got within five feet of the door.

He glanced back at Spock and seeing the puzzlement, offered as an explanation, "He's been mothering me."

"The injury you sustained on the planet was quite substantial and had Dr. McCoy been unable to intervene when he had, you would have died from the blood loss alone. It is only logical that he would be 'mothering you' as you say. You should have remained under his care."

Geez, for Spock to be saying such a thing he knew he must look like shit. Spock was a lot like him in that he didn't like being stuck in sickbay for any reason. He gave in when he had to, which was more than Jim could say for himself, but Spock was almost as bad a patient as he was…just with less complaining.

He could feel Spock's resolve, however, and knew the Vulcan would not leave until he'd escorted his Captain back to sickbay and to McCoy's wrath.

He sighed, staring down at the floor. "I couldn't sleep there," he replied softly, hoping a bit of honesty would get Spock to leave him be. "Too much on my mind."

Spock stepped closer, coming to stand not far behind him. He tensed ever so slightly, hoping the Vulcan wasn't about to touch him and then inwardly scowling at himself for the thought. Spock was not a touchy person. He wouldn't touch Jim unless Jim indicated he needed it.

"The events which took place down on the planet were most disturbing." He offered, appearing to assume it was the mission that was preoccupying his attention.

Jim nodded slightly, not bothering to correct him. He had to admit that he actually hadn't thought about the mission itself. He couldn't really remember everything that happened, except for the end and he refused to dwell on that now with Spock currently standing not two feet away from him, but he knew that's not what Spock was refereeing to specifically. However, even knowing he'd been violated mentally, and he couldn't help but shiver slightly thinking about it, he couldn't really _remember_ it and that was perhaps why it didn't bother him so much. His mind felt the same as it ever had – _unfortunately,_ he couldn't help but sigh – and if it wasn't for the fact that Spock had told him that the Gahbrogal were manipulating him telepathically, he probably wouldn't have ever known it. He just didn't remember enough of it.

He turned to meet Spock's gaze, prepared to admit that he couldn't actually remember much of what happened and ready to get that information from Spock, but paused when he saw the look on the Vulcan's face. There wasn't anything out of the ordinary that an outsider would pick up. Spock was being as stoic as ever, his facial features given nothing away, but his eyes were so very telling. They were riveted on the area where he'd been injured and there were emotions swirling there that Jim wasn't too sure even he was familiar with.

"Spock," he drew those dark eyes to is own, drawing on instinct alone to figure out what had upset the Vulcan. "What happened down there was necessary."

Spock's brow furled ever so slightly and Jim knew his assumption had been correct. "You endangered your life in order to save my own. Under the circumstances, your sacrifice was unnecessary."

He frowned. "Unnecessary?" What the hell was Spock on now? "I wasn't just about to stand by and watch you get shot."

"You most likely would not have remembered the event."

"That's beside the point!" He couldn't believe Spock was actually saying this to him. "They were aiming at you _heart_, Spock. That shot would have killed you." Spock was silent at this. "And what circumstances are you talking about?"

Now Spock did look confused, looking at Jim as if he'd thought the situation had been obvious. "What happened on the planet was in part my own doing. If I had merely gone along with what the Gahbrogal had been doing, I could have found a way to defuse the situation without any injury to either yourself or Ensign Bowen."

He hadn't read Spock's report, so he didn't know, but he could understand a little too well what his First Officer was driving at. "Spock, you can't blame yourself for that. God knows, if you'd been acting strangely I would have said something. I don't remember what happened, but I can say that you probably made the right choice. The last thing we needed was for one of the Gahbrogal to convince me to allow them on board and have them begin manipulating the crew. You're the only telepath we have, the only one capable of fighting against a mental attack like that. Don't blame yourself for how things happened. If anything I should be thanking you for getting me out of their control."

Spock shook his head ever so slightly. "It should not have ended the way it did." He said it softly, almost as if he hadn't meant for Jim to hear. Jim couldn't help but be a little surprised at how ashamed Spock seemed to be giving into such an admission. Then again, with what he knew about Vulcans, and Spock in particular, he really shouldn't be surprised. Regret was an emotion. Spock was ashamed that he regretted anything, which just compounded the problem as he shouldn't be feeling ashamed either.

"You are the Captain," Spock continued hesitantly, seeming to force himself to say the words. "It is my duty to ensure your safety."

"Not at the cost of your life, Spock."

"On the contrary, if you had died, the _Enterprise_ would have been without her Captain. If I had died-"

"Then we wouldn't even be here discussing this because the Gahbrogal would have either continue to use myself and the Ensign or killed us both and taken the _Enterprise_," Jim meet Spock's gaze and wouldn't let the Vulcan turn away from it, imploring Spock to see his point. "My life is not anymore or less important than yours." Then he shrugged. "Besides, the _Enterprise_ would get along fine without me. You would have taken command. The ship would have been fine."

Spock apparently disagreed. "As it has been repeatedly proven to me, your ability to command this vessel and her crew far exceeds my own. You have demonstrated on more than one occasion your ability to avoid situations that would otherwise have been fatal, usually in a rather unorthodox yet effective manner."

Jim couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. "Are you saying I'm just lucky?"

Spock frowned at his word usage. "You have displayed this ability far too many times for it to be merely a case of luck."

His eyes softened as he gazed at the Vulcan. "Thanks, Spock."

"I am merely stating a fact, Captain."

"Jim," he reiterated for what had to be the thousandth time. One day he would get Spock to call him by name when they were in private. He knew it'd take time, but he was determined to do it.

He shifted slightly and winced, pain lacing up his side at his movement and he placed a hand over the bandages. Apparently McCoy's horse pills were wearing off.

"Your injury is causing you pain," Spock noted and Jim almost couldn't stop himself from laughing at the obviousness of the observation. "You should return to sickbay."

"I'm fine," he grumbled, refusing to allow himself to be led back to sickbay. He knew he'd be there soon enough once McCoy got a hold of him again and he wanted to post-pone that agony as long as possible. He'd die of boredom if he had to stay there any longer.

Spock suddenly took a step forward, mostly likely to place a hand carefully on his arm to help support him. Jim tensed as the sudden closeness, fearing what would happen if Spock were to touch him now. What would he sense? Would he pick up on his turmoil over the memories that weren't his? His undeniable need to be as close to Spock as possible in ways that weren't exactly appropriate?

"You are favouring your right side and the tension in your shoulders is a clear indication of your distress."

"I'm fine," he reiterated, trying to merge himself with the barrier in an attempt to put some distance between himself and Spock.

Spock seemed to pause then, raising his gaze to meet his own. Jim frozen under that gaze. Confusion flickered in those dark eyes for a moment as they studied Jim and Jim held his breath, terrified by what Spock could be reading from his reaction. Realization sparked in those eyes and then sadness.

"I am causing your distress," he said, hitting far too close to the mark for comfort. Though nothing in his features showed it, Jim could clearly read both from his tone of voice and from his eyes that Spock was saddened by that knowledge and he felt himself rushing to reassure.

"What? No – Spock...no. It's not you," and wasn't that just the most clichéd excuse ever, regardless of how true it was, "I...I've just got a lot of things on my mind." It wasn't quite a lie. In truth it wasn't really Spock's fault at all, at least not this Spock's. How was he to know that having him so close was both a joy and a torment, wishing he could hold the Vulcan close and yet knowing that he didn't have that right?

Spock cocked his head slightly. "You are not being entirely truthful."

Damn the man's observational skills. Spock had always seemed to be so oblivious to human emotional problems before, why did he have to take a sudden interest in them now? And why him? Was it written across his forehead 'harbouring an unrequited love for Spock of Vulcan, please inquire below' in big block letters? God only knew that McCoy had noticed something was up, yet the older man had so far respected his privacy on the matter and not pushed. That wouldn't last for much longer if he kept it up, but for the moment he appreciated it. Why did Spock have to be pushing this now, when he was injured and wanted nothing more then to curl up in the Vulcan's embrace and forget the world, as he had for those few precious moment on the planet and on the way to sickbay? Why couldn't this wait until he was back on his feet and not feeling so susceptible to his First Officer's charms?

Spock had that insightful look on his face again; a look Jim had become quite familiar with that meant the Vulcan had just uncovered a vital clue needed to solve whatever problem they happened to be faced with at the time. He usually grinned when he saw it, knowing Spock had probably just come up with the solution that was going to save their bacon, but considering that the problem right now seemed to be his own reluctance to confide in his First Officer, it only made dread swell in his gut.

"Since you claim that it is not I which is causing you distress, I can only conclude that it is in fact my alternate self which caused the problem, seeing as you're behaviour only seems to vary whenever I am around."

Jim knew he was gapping, but he really couldn't help it. "How the hell did you reach that conclusion?" Never mind that, "and how do you know about him anyways?"

Spock's eyebrow rose. "Your behaviour towards me began changing not long after your return from Delta Vega. If you take our encounter on the bridge out of the equation, you have done all you could to reach out towards me in friendship, responding to me in a way which implies some form of familiarity. Many of the circumstances surrounding the events that followed lead me to suspect that an alternate version of myself had somehow followed Nero from the other timeline and that you have been in contact with him. After returning to Earth, both he and I met and spoke briefly."

Jim wasn't exactly sure what he felt in regards to this new information, but he did know that he was a little hurt to realize the old man had lied to him. "He told me the universe would implode or something if I told you about him."

"From my understanding, he merely implied the information, believing that the success of the mission required the two of us working together without too much outside influence," Spock's eyes seem to lighten slightly in remembrance. "He also felt that for he and I to continue ignoring one another was illogical given that there are so few Vulcans left. He convinced me that I was needed here on the ship and he would take my place on the colony."

Jim sighed, shaking his head. "Meddling Vulcan," he muttered, grinning ever so slightly. Spock couldn't know of what he and the elder Spock had spoken of on Delta Vega, but given what he'd learned and what was said to him, he could believe that the old man had perhaps hinted to Spock that he needed to remain on board the Enterprise. He couldn't say that he was angry with the slight manipulation, knowing Spock Prime had done it in an attempt to give him and his younger counterpart the same relationship he had shared with his own Captain, but at the same time it seemed to complicate things. Without Spock Prime's intervention, would he and Spock even have come as far as they had on the road to that infamous friendship or would they still be fighting with each other? Would Spock even be here with him now?

"He is a very intriguing individual," Spock continued causing Jim to chuckle slightly.

"He is that."

Spock watched him silently for a moment and Jim wondered what was going on in that impressive Vulcan mind of his. "Did he upset you in some way?" his voice was soft, cradled in the comfortable silence of the room.

Jim sagged somewhat against the barrier, closing his eyes. "Does it matter?" He couldn't explain this to Spock. It would surely ruin everything.

"Jim," Spock began softly, the use of his first name causing a small if sad smile to cross Jim's lips. "Our friendship, though unexpected, is...important to me. If something is troubling you..."

The fact that Spock was even able to admit that to him said a great deal. "I don't think you really want to know," he couldn't keep the sadness from his voice even if he tried. "Dammit, sometimes I wish I didn't know." He ran a hand through his hair in aggravation, blowing a breath of air out between pursed lips.

Spock stepped carefully closer and Jim was pleased to note that instead of tensing at the proximity as before, he seemed to relax ever so slightly. "He upset you?"

It was Jim's turn to frown. "No. Not intentionally." He sighed, trying to organize his thoughts in a way for Spock to understand without given too much away. "There wasn't a lot of time for him to explain to me what he needed too. You were already on your way to rendezvous with the rest of the Fleet and if we didn't do something quickly, Nero was going to destroy Earth just like he had Vulcan. We couldn't let that happen and so he gave me the information he needed to in the quickest way possible."

"He mind-melded with you?" The way Spock said it was almost like the sound of a puzzle piece clicking into place, suddenly making the overall picture a little clearer to the Vulcan.

Jim nodded.

Spock's brow had furled in that way that it did when he was trying to suppress some kind of emotional reaction. "He should not have taken such a liberty with you." He couldn't identify the slight undercurrent to Spock's voice, but he could almost swear that it sounded slightly wistful.

He shrugged. "It's not something he hasn't done before."

That had Spock meeting his gaze. "He has melded with the James Kirk of his timeline?"

Jim nodded, astonished that Spock found that surprising. "Yeah," he said softly, and then he lowered his head to look at the floor. "I think I got more than he intended though. There's a lot of stuff kicking around up there; things I think I may have been better off not knowing." Did he really believe that? Maybe. The knowledge had done nothing but hurt him anyways. He didn't even have the hope that one day he could have Spock like that. His relationship with Uhura seemed pretty solid, if discreet, and even if Spock wasn't currently in a serious relationship, Jim couldn't bring himself to believe that the Vulcan would be interested in him in that way.

"What things?"

Jim grimaced, shaking his head. "You don't want to know."

"This knowledge pains you."

_Yes, but I have to live with that_. He didn't want to drag Spock down into this, was terrified that if he did, not only would Spock not understand, but it would ruin the tentative relationship they were both trying so hard to build.

"I'm okay," he shrugged, forcing himself to open his eyes and look at Spock, trying to appear as if he'd just have a lapse of concentration or something due to his injury. He knew almost immediately that Spock wasn't fooled.

"Your health would suggest otherwise," he paused them, searching Jim's gaze, looking for something. "Would you allow me to lesson the burden?"

It took Jim a moment to understand just what Spock was asking him, but when he did he could do nothing just stare at the Vulcan in shock. "What? You want to mind-meld with me?" After everything he'd just said about it being something the elder Spock shouldn't have done?

Spock nodded. "It would seem the most logical solution to your distress."

Jim wasn't exactly sure how that could be considering that the idea of Spock finding out what he knew made the whole situation seem about ten times worse. "I can't let you do that."

Spock seemed to have anticipated his reaction. "If you are concerned about your privacy, rest assured that I will keep the meld shallow, only deep enough to obtain the pertain information and if there is anything you do not wish me to see, you will easily be able to direct it away from me. I will not pry. Also, do not be troubled with how the information may affect me as I can guarantee that I am more than capable of handling it."

Even with Spock's assurance, he wasn't sure that he could do it. Even if he could keep everything hidden from Spock and only allowed Spock to see what Spock Prime had shown him, could he handle it? Could he get that close to Spock and pull away afterwards? He vividly remembered the mind-meld with the older Spock, the way the elder Vulcan had just seemed to permeate every corner of his being. Could he do that with his Spock and still remain sane afterwards, knowing he could never have it again?

And not only that, but what of Spock? Did he really have the right to burden Spock with what he knew, especially given his relationship with Uhura?

"Jim," Spock interrupted his silently agony. "Please allow me to do this. I cannot leave you to suffer when there is something I can do to ease it. That is what friends do, do they not? Help and support one another?"

With those words, Jim realized that he didn't really have a choice in this. If he denied Spock, it would seem to the Vulcan as if he didn't trust him, that he didn't feel safe in their friendship. It would destroy them as surely as the knowledge in his mind would. For the friendship he was developing with Spock to survive, he had to show Spock that he trusted him and valued his support and company. He was damned if he did and damned if he didn't.

"Alright," he finally said, picking the one option he knew he could live with. "But Bones is probably looking for me right now."

"I have already spoken with Dr. McCoy and was able to convince him that, should I be unable to persuade you to return to sickbay, I would remain with you while you rested in your own quarters under the condition that I contact him should you require immediate medical attention."

Jim raised his own eyebrow then. "Okay, when were you talking to Bones and how on earth did you convince him to let me off the hook?"

If Jim didn't know any better he would swear that Spock was silently laughing at him. "He contacted me on the bridge when he'd realized you'd somehow left his care. Once I determined where you were, it was clear to me that you were in distress as you tend to frequent the observation deck when troubled. I imparted this to Dr. McCoy and explained that the best thing for you would most likely be undisturbed rest in your quarters."

Jim was impressed. "You need to tell me how you managed that. In all the time I've known him, I've never once been able to wrangle my way out of sickbay when Bones thought I really needed to be there."

"As I have observed," Spock agreed, leaving it at that.

Jim scowled. "You're not gonna tell me, are you?"

"You are better off not knowing," he deadpanned, causing Jim to snort.

"Throw my own words back at me, why don't ya?" He sighed, "Alright. Keep your secrets. They probably wouldn't work for me anyways."

Spock didn't comment as he followed him out of the observation deck, a comforting presence at his side. If Spock stood close enough to be able to reach out and support him if needed, he made no comment about it and Jim didn't mention it either. As nervous as he was about what they were about to do, he could honesty say that he appreciated that support more than Spock could ever know.

One silent turbolift ride and an anxious walk through the ship corridors later, the two of them silently filed into Jim's quarters. It suddenly occurred to Jim as the door closed behind them that Spock had never been in his personal quarters before and watching Spock silently look around had him feeling unaccountably nervous. He could honestly say that he was more than happy that McCoy had forced him to be neat when they'd shared a room together at the Academy and that those habits had stayed with him even after getting the Enterprise, otherwise God only knows what this room would look like right now. As it was, he couldn't help but feel a little sheepish.

There wasn't exactly much around – he'd never been much for collecting things even when he'd been back home in Iowa – but the few things he did have were telling. The wall above his desk was covered in pictures, mostly all from the academy, but there were a few of the crew together as well. A small bookshelf held a dozen real leather bound books of classic Earth literature that he'd managed to come across. His father's old chess set – God, he couldn't even remember where he'd dug it up from – was placed innocently on his small coffee table, more on display then because he actually played with it.

"You play chess?" Spock asked when he noticed it, turning to look back at Jim with a speculative look on his face.

Jim shrugged. "A little. My brother taught me to play when we were younger, but I haven't played in years."

Spock was looking back down at the set. "Perhaps, if you do not mind, we could play at some point." There was that wistful note in his voice again. "I can re-teach you the rules if you have forgotten."

Jim smiled. "You'd probably kick my ass. Chess seems like it would be a game you'd excel in."

"I did hold the title of Grand Master while studying and later teaching at the Academy." From anyone else that sentence may have come across as extremely arrogant, but Spock said it in such a matter of fact way that it instantly had Jim at ease, a soft laugh escaping him.

"Yeah, I bet you did." He fidgeted a little, staring at Spock as the Vulcan stared back at him. "So," he said quietly. "How do you wanna do this?"

Spock gazed around for a moment more and then turned his eyes back to Jim, taking in the way he was still pressing a hand lightly over his wound. "Perhaps if you were to sit propped up on your bed, it would be the most comfortable position for you and put less pressure on your wound."

Jim nodded, understanding the logic behind the statement, but even so trying very hard not to blush. His bed was probably the last place he wanted to be with Spock right now, but he was thankful that he was as exhausted as he was. Even if he could, he didn't think he'd be able to get it up right now, saving him the embarrassment of having to explain to his First Officer why sitting so close to him gave him a raging hard-on.

He moved slowly behind the privacy screen towards his bed, Spock following slowly behind him. With the Vulcan's help, they got a bunch of Jim's bigger pillows stacked up against the head board and Jim settled back against them, his legs crossed and the pressure taken off his side. Spock sat down gingerly on the side of the bed, bringing his right leg up so that they could face each other more fully while keeping his left foot planted firmly on the floor.

This close to Spock, he could clearly feel the heat from the Vulcan's body, could faintly make out the feeling of the other's breath against his face. Spock's eyes seemed impossibly dark this close, softened with concern, but swirling with something Jim couldn't identify.

"This will be easier if you remain relaxed," Spock commented, bring his right hand slowly up to Jim's face and it was only then that Jim realized he was trembling.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Jim tried once more, his nervous not helping him one bit. One part of him was utterly terrified to do this, not knowing exactly what Spock was going to take away from it and how being that close to Spock would affect him after it was all said and done. The other side, the slightly louder part, felt heat pooling in his gut at the thought of diving into that enviable Vulcan mind, feeling it wrap around him and suffuse his being.

Spock's fingertips gracefully fitted into position, his touch just as light and comforting as that of the elder Spock's. "You are in pain and it is within my power to lesson it."

Jim thought about bringing up the fact that Spock had said mind-melds were not to be taken lightly, but decided against it. If Spock was willing to do this, especially given how the man seemed to avoid personal and physical situations when he could, then Jim could do this too. He had to.

"Alright," he said softly and Spock nodded.

"My mind to your mind," the words were soft, almost rhythmic. "My thoughts to your thoughts," and the world fell away.

_tbc..._


End file.
